I was into Barbie and designer jeans.
quote by Carson Kressley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Ugly Irl
Ken: Wanna go for a ride
Barbie: Sure Ken
Ken: Well forget it
Barbie:
Im and ugly girl,
My face makes you hurl,
Sad i have it,
I should fag it,
Acne everywhere,
Unwanted facial hair,
Im a realation,
To Frankinstiens creation.
Ken:
Your so ugly,
You disgust me.
Barbie:
Im a bad homely girl,
All alone in the wolrd,
Im as flat as a board,
Thin and lanky,
Ken:
Your a dog and a troll,
Were you hit by a train,
Wont go near you cos your breath is skanky.
Barbie:
Dont get touched,
Im afraid,
Cos guys say,
"A man i saw."
Im and ugly girl,
My face makes you hurl,
Sad i have it,
I should fag it,
Acne everywhere,
Unwanted facial hair,
Im a realation,
To Frankinstiens creation.
Ken:
Your so ugly,
You disgust me.
Barbie:
Boo Hoo Hoo Yeah
Ken:
Your so ugly,
You disgust me.
Oh Ooh Oh Ooh
Barbie:
Oh, lets go out and have some fun!
Ken:
Im sorry but your to damn ugly!
Barbie:
Oh, screw you Ken!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dolls Of Religion
Dolls of Religion
Virgin Mary was a Barbie doll, the only one that has given birth
to a Barbie doll baby. Two thousand years this went unseen till
she appeared in toy shops, together with a cute Barbie doll man
... her son? And you now find them both in many homes placed
on shelves or cradled in children's arms. Artificial created, we can
never be as perfect as them. Timeless they are never get old, not
in the image of man's imperfection, but in image of a dreams that
lack what resemble souls and holds no promise that man was for
a higher purpose than just being alive. As millions of people go on
diets, they can never obtain long legs like a Barbie doll.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Alone On The Beach
Awakened on the beach
Look at the patterns in the sand
Incredible patterns
Who made this beach? ?
This fantastic breach, by who's hand?
Each grain and pebble unique
All the flotsam and jetsum arranged just so
The name of the arranger I seek
Will the designer I ever know? ?
Could such things happen by chance? ?
Could nature arrange the things I see? ?
But where is the romance
If such things could just be? ?
No! ! I believe in the designer! !
His ways to me he'll show
How this perfect beach he made could not be finer
I pray the designer I'll know
To be alone on the beach I can not bear
Ther is a designer this I swear
But a moment later I might ask
Why this designer I never see
But a moment later I might ask
Am I alone, am I just me? ?
To be alone on this beach I can not bear
There is a designer this I swear
poem by Janie Hubbard
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hey You
Hey you with the wedding dress on
Made of white chiffon blowing in the wind
Hey you with the dreams in your head
Youve been so mistead by your hearts pull
I know your waiting for your ship to come in
You anxiously wait for such a long time
Youre just like my ken and barbie doll
You dress up and play the game
Youre just like my ken and barbie doll
Your name will never change
Hey you with your eyes full of hope
You think you can rope your desire
Hey you, you naive thing
Your patience in time will tire
I know youre waiting for your ide to roll in
How did you ever get such high hopes?
Chorus:
Youre just like my ken and barbie doll
In a plastic world of make believe
Youre just like my ken and barbie doll
You know hes just gonna leave
song performed by by Gwen Stefani
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jeans On
When I wake up in the mornin light
I pull on my jeans and I feel all right
I pull my blue jeans on, I pull my old blue jeans on
I pull my blue jeans on, I pull my old blue jeans on
Its the weekend, and I know that youre free
So pull on your jeans and come on out with me
Oh cause I need to have you near me,
I need to feel you close to me
I need to have you near me, I need to feel you close to me
You and me, well go motorbike ridin in the sun
And the wind and the rain
I got money in my pocket, I got a tiger in my tank
And Im king of the road again
Ill meet ya in the usual place
You dont need a thing except your pretty face, alright
I pull my blue jeans on, I pull my old blue jeans on
I pull my blue jeans on, I pull my old blue jeans on
Aw, here we go mama
You and me, well go motorbike ridin in the sun
And the wind and the rain
I got money in my pocket, I got a tiger in my tank
And Im king of the road again
When I wake up in the mornin light
I pull on my jeans and I feel all right
Hey I pull my blue jeans on, I pull my old blue jeans on
I pull my blue jeans on, I pull my old blue jeans on
I pull my blue jeans on, I pull my old blue jeans on
I pull my blue jeans on, I pull my old blue jeans on
song performed by by Keith Urban
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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O’ Woman In Jeans
O’woman in jeans
you are modern
you are not bound in chains like
that one in saree
O‘ woman in jeans
you work and work
you don't need that multitude of suits with dupattas
few pairs of top and jeans is enough
O’ woman in jeans
you look more curvy more sensuous
even when you are fully covered
your hips your bust is far more powerful
than one in saree, in stiched suits
O’ woman in jeans
you can move you can run
you need no excuse like
that head covered women
you can thwart the attempts of rapist
O’ woman in jeans
you look sensuous
you look commanding
you look proud
you need not to play submissive
O woman in jeans
poem by Pawan Sharma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I have jeans with holes in them and I have nice jeans. I have casual and I have dressy jeans. I've got all kinds.
quote by Amanda Seyfried
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Creepin Jean
Youre not leaving so descreet,
Just creeping out on me.
Your dizzy head, and smoky eyes,
Youll find some others bed to sleep.
So dont look back, it is too late,
No story to be told.
This creepin mess you left for me,
Promising that youd be home.
You dont know what I mean,
Creepin jeans a disease.
You dont know what I mean,
Creepin jeans a disease.
You dont know what I mean,
Creepin jeans a disease.
You dont know what I mean,
Creepin jeans a disease.
Your dirty friends and underwear,
Keep hanging round my room.
The lonely pictures that you paint
Are creepin to their doom.
So dont look back it is too late,
No story to be told.
These creepin friends you left for me,
Saying your promise to be home.
You dont know what I mean,
Creepin jeans a disease.
You dont know what I mean,
Creepin jeans a disease.
You dont know what I mean,
Creepin jeans a disease.
You dont know what I mean,
Creepin jeans a disease.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hey You
Hey you with the wedding dress on
Made of white chiffon blowing in the wind
Hey you with the dreams in your head
You've been so mislead by your heart's pull
I know you're waiting for your ship to come in
You anxiously wait for such a long time
You're just like my Ken and Barbie Doll
You dress up and play the game
You're just like my Ken and Barbie Doll
You're name will never change
Hey you with the eyes full of hope
You think you can rope your desire
Hey you
song performed by by No Doubt from Tragic Kingdom
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Barbie
It is just a fact of life,
And like a Black-Barbie and a White-barbie;
But it has to be salted that you can eat it well.
I know what you want and how you want it,
I know what you want from me and how you want me to present it,
And like the lost girl and the lost boy in the garden of roses;
But the wedding dresses are still hanging around.
It is just a fact of life,
And i want to hear from you also;
Because hatred doesn't solve any problem on this earth!
But rather with peace, care, unity and love we can move the mountains.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Any time you talk about the look of the film, it's not just the director and the director of photography. You have to include the costume designer and the production designer.
quote by Spike Lee
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Twentieth Century Fox
She claims we travel in a rollin' jet
But in fact she arrived on a blue Corvette
She almost dares to plush your tail
Loves her daddy's cash 'cause it spends so well
Just watch the way she walks, she's got a double [wild] figure
Watch her body talk
Chorus:
She's a twentieth century fox, oh watch her walk
She's a twentieth century fox, talk that talk
She got designer jeans, so tight 'n blue
Regardin' the sweat when she looks at you
She loves lights, cameras and action
To the boys on the set, she's the star attraction
Just watch the way she walks, she's got it all up front
Just watch her body talk
(chorus)
(Solo)
(Talk that talk, ooh)
She got designer jeans, so tight 'n blue
Regardin' the sweat when she looks at you
She loves lights, cameras and action
To the boys on the set, she's the star attraction
Just watch the way she walks, she's got a double [wild] figure
Just watch her body talk
(chorus)
She's a twentieth century fox, oh watch her walk, watch her walk
She's a twentieth century fox, talk that talk
(Walk that walk, talk that talk)
Twentieth century fox, she's a twentieth century fox
Twentieth century fox, twentieth century fox... (to fade
song performed by by 38 Special
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bipolar Barbie.
There was this
Barbie-doll girl I knew
who grew
into a Barbie-doll woman.
She battled some
bipolar disorders
and cocks dressed
in suits, until
one day
it got too much.
She tried gassing
herself in her
car – hose-pipe in
the window affair –
but realized her
car was made
from plastic. Not
to mention that
plastic lungs
can’t do
much in the first place.
I guess plastic
brains don’t
think up
great
ideas.
Mary X.
The Blue Jeans I Remember
the blue jeans i remember
after a very cold season
in that coconut farm
tight blue jeans
smelling my swelling
legs
and dirty with saline
taste
unwashed in the corner
of my room
i always see your
warm hands
sliding
inside them
damn blue jeans
spare my sanity!
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Playing a fashion designer could be the bane of my existence because I am married to a fashion designer.
quote by Lori Loughlin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dear Life..
Dear Life,
Thanks a lot.
Thanks for computer crashes and plane crashes,
for dirty feet and dirty minds, for cold weather and
cold mothers. Thanks for enery drinks that taste like s-t.
But thanks as well for small talk with strangers in the
Express lane at Ralph’s, thank you for bath and body works
chapstick and cherry sarcasm. Thanks for being
a dime short of my favorite brand of chips at the
vending machine, thanks for loud chewers and irratating siblings.
Gracias for best friends that don’t realize you love them more than a best friend.
Merci Beucoup for last minute holiday shopping and snatching the last pair of skinny jeans....
Thank you for obnoxious relatives who ask where
you’re going to college or what career you’ve picked
when all you want to do is lie in bed and watch
reruns of “Full House” and “Spongebob.” Thanks for
the last seat free on the subway. Thanks for cheap
knockoffs of designer jeans and fake Louis V purses. But most of all, Life,
thank you for the 1: 1 ratio of real thanks and no thanks.
Thanks a lot.
Envy Looks Restlessly
blue jeans, yes, the blue
in the jeans, the jeans
i claim that it is all that i see,
but i may go on a deeper
exploration of this
introspection, there was
something fleshy
under the blueness of the jeans
something dark
like the color of the night
filled with
desires that one wants
to spell correctly,
there is the hand there
resting
and with a permission
since it stays there for
a longer time
unhampered
their eyes are smiling
and they were telling me
about
the art of letting go
and sending out the doves
free finally from their
decorated cage
at the end i always
ask
what did i feel?
frankly, i may say
nothing, but let me explore
the secret room inside my house,
envy is there
wide awake and wanting to go
out of itself
towards the darkness of the night
and the coldness
of the typhoon air
envy looks out of the
window
and it is very restless
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lookism
Black hair,
Blonde hair,
Brown hair,
And blue,
Earrings,
And nose rings,
And belly rings too,
Skinny jeans,
Baggy jeans,
Purple checkered and
Colored jeans too.
Looks and more looks
Are everywhere you look.
Their on TV
And in real life.
They are in church
And on the street.
We’re always concerned with our looks cuz they are all around.
They define
Loser
And punk
To preppy and
Rich.
What you look like describes your personality.
But why?
If you where tight jeans why must you be skater?
Of if you wear your hair black,
Why must you be punk or Goth?
It is all just in our heads,
You can wear tight jeans and be Goth,
Or black hair and be prep,
Why are looks so defining?
Because we make them so.
Why do people do this?
Hell if I know.
It is all just a mirage.
None of its real.
So why are looks such a big deal?
Why do we try and make believe,
If you look like that then you must be this?
There is no point to this strange behavior.
So lets stop this lookism and just get to someone despite how they look.
poem by BlackXWhiteFeathers Raven Mendez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rip Off for M lady Tara
Designer labels I won’t buy.
Because I see no reason why
I should be advertising free
I think they should be paying me.
The prices asked truly obscene
I am quite sure they would have been
without the label half the price.
There’s no end to their avarice.
I will not be their willing tool
I pride myself I’m not a fool
Should I see something which I like
I buy a cheaper look alike.
Though you prefer designer clothes.
I don’t, I won’t pay through the nose.
28-Oct-08
http: // blog.myspace.com.poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ang Tunay Na Lalaki Meets Barbie At The Shark Bar
on Mulberry and Spring on a rainy night.
Her head sticks out of some woman’s tote bag
placed on top of the bar, she winks
at Ang Tunay na Lalaki. He looks at his gin and tonic,
looks back at the doll and hears her tiny voice
even though her lips aren’t moving. "Hi there,
big guy. I was made in the Philippines. You look
like you were made there too." He responds
just to humor himself, "Where, at the Subic Bay
manufacturing plants? Did you enjoy
being made by exploited laborers?" Barbie crawls
onto the sticky bar and sits herself on the edge
crossing her legs. "I remember those delicate fingers
expertly sewing the hairs to my head. Those women
were so nice to me." She bends at her waist
to let her hair down and dramatically lifts her head up
so her blond locks turn into a glamorous puff,
"See, they did a good job. You must admit."
"You’re incorrigible," he exhales a cloud of smoke
after lighting up a cigarette, "And you’re
all plastic, petroleum based plastic."
Barbie places her palms against her face
and begins to sob. Ang Tunay na Lalaki sticks out
his middle finger, strokes the back of her head,
"Now, now, doll. First time anyone ever told
you the truth?" Barbie lifts her left arm
to swipe away his finger, "My name’s Barbie!
Not Doll, Sweetie, Honey, or Dolly. It’s Barbie!"
Ang Tunay na Lalaki sips his gin,
"Look, Barbie. You have the perfect life,
you’re the world’s best-selling doll
and millions of little girls are buying you dresses.
Even the top fashion designers design
outfits for you." Barbie straightens her back
as if she had a spine, places
her hands on her lap, "But you don’t know
how hard it is to be beautiful all the time. See,
you made my mascara run." He takes a napkin,
dips it into his drink, proceeds to wipe off
the small black streaks on her cheeks, "It’s acrylic,
a water based paint." He reaches into his pocket
for a ball-point pen, draws rich eye lashes
around her eyes. Barbie slides over to a shot glass,
stares at her reflection, "Hey, you’re good
at this. Have you ever considered a career
in make-up? I could recommend you
to our designers, you know."
Suddenly a woman’s human hand plucks
Barbie off the bar, stuffing her
back into a tote bag. His eyes follow
the tote bag out the door. All he can see
is a puff of blond hair and a stiff arm
swaying back and forth like a metronome.
poem by Nick Carbo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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